Earth Pathways Showcase

The Land wakes slowly to the returning Sun. Deep within the bowels of the Earth, bulbs are beginning to stir, but it is not yet time to leap into action. First, they sink their roots into the darkness below; for only when they are firmly grounded can they emerge in fullness. Determined snowdrops and courageous crocuses herald the first breath of Spring. At Imbolc we dream of new beginnings, trusting them to emerge when their time is right. A festival of inspiration and incubation, Imbolc has long been associated with the Saint/Goddess Brigid and her triple gifts of word-craft, healing-craft, and smith-craft. She represents the seed of possibility, the power of transformation, and is embodied by a sacred flame.

~ Gather objects, items, and images that inspire and encourage you. Lay them in a circle, taking the time to look at each one and feel what it stirs inside you. Sit in the circle with a sheet of blank paper and a pen. When you feel ready, speak the affirmation: “I root in love to rise anew.” Write or draw your dreams for the year ahead on the paper; dreams for your life, the lives of others and for the Earth itself.

Imbolc © Keli Tomlin 2024

Life returns to the Land as the Sun grows in strength. Leaves and green shoots dress the earth, while daffodils and tulips burst into bright colour along our borders. The air smells warm and sweet with excitement as birdsong sweeps away the silence of Winter. Creatures of all kinds build nests and burrows to birth their young. On the day of the Spring Equinox the length of daylight and darkness are equal. This is a time of balance and the perfect moment to pause in reflection and anticipation of what lies ahead. Your new dreams will be germinating, and shapes of possible actions may be forming. Eggs are a symbol of the potential that is waiting to be birthed at this time of year. The energy of youthful exuberance, confidence and determination is embodied by the Spring Maiden, rabbits and hares, and the cheerful bleating of lambs.

~ Paint a smooth stone in colours and symbols that reflect your dreams and plans for the growing season. Lay it on the ground (perhaps in a nest) and move a few metres away. Stand quietly, feel the Earth and season around you, recall the markings and intentions on your stone. When you feel ready, speak the affirmation: “I take heart. I take shape. I leap into action.” Run, walk, skip, leap, towards your stone as quickly as you can. Pick it up and imagine the energy in your body transferring to the stone and all the plans and dreams it embodies.

Spring Equinox © Keli Tomlin 2024

Hedgerows blossom, trees flower and the Land is overrun with a fresh coat of green. Life is in full flow as we arrive at Beltane. The Sun warms our days and stirs ever more life from the ground. Time to plant out seeds and seedlings now the scent of sweet elderflower and milky hawthorn is in the air. At Beltane, the Green Man wakes to dance across the Land and Lady Spring dances with him. Together they bring fullness, richness, and fertility to the Land and joy to the hearts of all who witness its beauty. The Maypole and its twisting ribbons symbolise their union; a combination of energies that provokes growth in all living things.

~ Gather ribbons, threads, or strips of fabric and lay them as the spokes of a wheel, with a space at the centre. Onto each ribbon, place an object or write a word that represents a being you love. This can be people, places, animals, trees; any beings you feel kinship with. Name one ribbon for yourself. Find a sturdy stick and sit with it in the centre of the ‘wheel’. Take a moment to centre yourself before speaking the affirmation: “Love brings all things to life.” Wrap the ribbons, one at a time, around the stick, allowing them to weave in and out of one another. Allow your love and the love of all things to weave together in beauty and strength. Repeat the affirmation as many times as you wish.

Beltane © Keli Tomlin 2024

The Longest Day has arrived! Our Sun has reached the peak of its annual journey and the Land overflows with green and growing things; energised as bees hurrying between flower and hive. Long days and warm evenings encourage us to embrace our wild side! Light bonfires, walk barefoot, dance and sing. Stretch the animal of your human body and feel alive! Summer Solstice reminds us of our expansive nature; our ability to be present and powerful in the World. If your energy is high and full, embrace that power and make use of it: take positive action for our beautiful Earth and celebrate it. If you feel overstretched or overwhelmed, turn your presence and power inward: reaffirm personal boundaries and realign your actions with your truth and integrity, embracing the sovereignty of the Sun.

~ Find a sturdy branch or stick, Oak would be ideal, and hold it up to the sky. Imagine the Sun’s warmth and energy being drawn towards it and allow that energy to fill the stick and you. Plant the stick in the ground and as you do so speak the affirmation: “I stand in truth and I shine bright.” Picture the ways you are present in the World and the shadow cast by your actions. Allow that strong Sun energy to shine a light on what most needs your attention and energy.

Summer Solstice © Keli Tomlin 2024

The heat of Summer begins to wane and the colours of the Land fade. Exhaustion creeps in, even as the Earth prepares to fulfil its harvest potential. In this space between growth and abundance, we sense a turning of the seasonal and energetic tides. This time of First Harvest celebrates the gifts of arable fields and we give thanks to the Land and the hands that gather the harvest for keeping us fed. Bread is baked to honour the early crops and the nourishment they provide. Figures built of natural objects are burned in honour of the Land’s sacrifice. They remind us that we are nourished by the lives of other beings. Wishes are made on the transformative power of fire for a bountiful harvest and a safe Winter.

~ Connect with the Earth itself; touch it with your hands, sit/lay down upon it, press your cheek, or bare feet against it. Listen with your heart for what the Earth may need from you over the coming season. Carefully and respectfully, gather a handful of earth and place it in a container to take home with you. Leave a suitable/safe offering (breadcrumbs, seeds, water) in return. Speak your affirmation: “I give with grace. I receive with love.” Keep the earth in a place of honour, at home, for further reflection; before returning it to the Land at a later date.

Lammas © Keli Tomlin 2024

The Land erupts into colour and beauty as Harvest reaches its fullness. Berries shine on the branches of Hawthorn and Rowan, blackberries fill our brambles with tasty treats, and chestnuts scatter the ground, coveted by children and squirrels alike. The leaves transform in their decline to the colours of rust, gold and blood; their satisfying crunch makes the chill winds and shorter days more joyful. The Autumn Equinox balances the hours of light and darkness whilst also holding space for a celebration of abundance and gratitude. This doorway into Winter is a chance to look back on all that has been grown and created this year; to celebrate achievements and lay to rest that which no longer bears fruit. Our gratitude overflows with harvest of the Land, and we balance this with our intentions and actions to ensure those who do not know abundance, are acknowledged, and cared for.

~ Gather natural objects; berries, leaves, mosses, stones, sticks, and fallen fruits. On a flat patch of earth or surface use these items to create a picture/mandala, placing each item where it feels right; let the colours and shapes guide you. When you are finished, take a moment to observe it. Consider the abundance in your life and where it has come from. Consider ways you might share this abundance with others. Speak your affirmation: “Abundance is mine. Abundance for all.” followed by any personal intentions, to the Earth and your creation.

Autumn Equinox © Keli Tomlin 2024

Winter is coming and the Land embraces the need for rest and decay. Deciduous trees cast off their leaves to mulch in the mud, becoming sustenance for the lean times ahead. Mammals and birds continue their Winter preparations and we humans draw the memories of Summer around us like a cloak, as we prepare to embrace the darkness proper. Samhain is a time to honour and remember our beloved dead, ancestors of blood and of soul. Their wisdom is relearned in the stories we tell, the memories we share, and the foods we eat. Light candles, put out pictures, drink toasts, and cook favourite meals; leave a place at your table for those who cannot be present in body, to be welcomed in spirit. Be with the bare trees, the hard earth, the crunching leaves and reaffirm for yourself the knowing that through death and letting go, life renews.

~ Take a good length of red yarn/ribbon; imagine some if you don’t have any. Find a tree that is in the process of shedding its leaves and tie one end of the yarn to it and the other end around yourself. Focus on that connection and then imagine the multitude of other threads that spread out from you and the tree and how they might interweave with other beings. Consider the infinity of threads that exists across the World and throughout time. When you feel ready, speak your affirmation: “In life and in death all are connected.”

Samhain © Keli Tomlin

The Land is cold and quiet. Evergreens glow with inner light against the stark backdrop of bare trees and dark ground, hard with frost. Beneath our layers and behind closed doors we gather to celebrate the warmth and sustenance of community. Meanwhile the Earth and many of its beings sleep and dream, as they wait for the new solar year to begin. The Longest Night inspires celebration. We bring in holly boughs, ivy wreaths, light candles, and eat spiced cakes to conjure a sense of warmth and safety when the colour and vigour of life seems lost and diminished. This is the darkest moment of the year, before the new Sun is reborn; after this dark night, the days will once again lengthen. Take this time to rest and dream, embrace the darkness as a fertile soil for whatever new possibilities will take root in you come Spring.

~ Imagine or look up at the night sky. Feel the weight of your body holding you firmly to the Earth that supports you, and allow your gaze to soften, to take in as much of the sky as you are able. Pick up a warm blanket/scarf and imagine filling it with the darkness of the night sky. When it is full, wrap it around you. Imagine you are held warm and safe by the darkness. Speak your affirmation: “I am held in darkness. I am safe to rest.” Close your eyes. Breathe deeply and feel what arises.

Winter Solstice © Keli Tomlin 2024

I dream of love
pouring, like honey, from
broken hearts that have remembered what it means to be alive.

I see us rise
on wings of grace
and alchemise our fear into fierce generosity.

A lunatic dance
to chance upon a space
for sweetness, cradled at the heart of each precious comb.

Bee Dreaming © Keli Tomlin

There is no hurry to the surface,
One must first root, to emerge.
Encouraged by the shadows it casts on the walls,
This flame will feed on earthen darkness,
Until potential overflows into roaring furnace
and spring sunshine.
Into possibility, new life
and creativity.
Emboldened,
the forge prepares to create anew.

Light the Forge © Keli Tomlin

I am standing at the doorway between light and dark: the time when death becomes a visible, tangible and necessary part of life. The land is dressed in decaying leaves, fading berries, fields of stubble and orchards of fallen fruits. Is it any wonder I feel close to both life and death in this moment?

I rejoice in all we have, the endless beauty and the blessed abundance. I celebrate our achievements and our privilege, and I pray for enough, again and always. But I will also remember those creatures and places that are suffering from lack; for whom abundance – be it in food, in beauty or in biodiversity – is a fading thing and who may be edging closer to the darkness than any of us would like to be. And I know that the shadow of such things can draw over any of us, at any moment, without warning.

So yes, I am thankful and joyful at Harvest time! At the same time, I embrace the uncertainty of the darkness and let it drive me towards acts of compassion and generosity of spirit. Then whenever the darkness does come to call I know I will be able to meet it with a torch of love beside me to light the way ahead.

Balance © Keli Tomlin 2018

It starts with silence; a silence that is rich with wind song and bird call. Sounds that our ears have been hearing since the evolution of our species, calling to a place deep inside that recognises the harmony of breath in the spaces between. As the song grows with the daylight – sheep stirring, cockerels crowing, geese gathering and the occasional car humming – it maintains that harmonious quality, cradled by the bowl of the valley in which I rest. The light is more natural than electric here. Over the garden wall I witness the change from night to day and back again and this is entertainment as I have never known it. Drawn into the endless dance with an interest that is instinctive and ancient, not empty and escapist; the steady beat of cyclical time calls my heartbeat into rhythm. Sinking into myself, to where I can hear my spirit speaking, is becoming as natural as breathing. There is no need to force connection here. Where once I would strive with incense and music, tools and images, now I have no need. The Web of Life wraps around me in a patchwork of habitats, creatures, and humans combined and I am warmed by it. It is little effort to step out onto footpaths or up the garden path and all lead back to spirit in the end.

This Place © Keli Tomlin

Looking out from the doorway of the Equinox, all is shadow and bright gilded edges. The tree line is losing its stuffing and the creatures – feathered, furred and all – are layering up to wait, impatiently, for the return of the endless days of warmth, growth and light.

The turbulent weather hustles us into our jumpers and scarves, our homes and hearths, where we draw up company and contemplation like a warm blanket. Reaching out occasionally for sips of solitude and celebration, we search for that ephemeral inspiration needed to survive these dark nights and to dream our way into a new year.

Poised on this edge, flush with the fruits of our cycle’s labour, we might glimpse the potential for all that can be. Past and future press close as lovers in a moment of perfect balance. Then, a blustery gust returns us to motion, reminds us to step through the doorway and back into the dance of life and death, growth and loss, day and night, once more.

So, look to the Earth. For She, as always, is leading the way.

The Doorway © Keli Tomlin 2017

Burrowed in
Hands and feet sunk deep
Lips and tongue tasting dirt
Rich and fertile, wet and wild.
Follow the trickle-tease of life
Down a tunnel
Dark and deep
To the cavern
Silent burrow
Settle yourself by the eternal fire
Claw the ash
To feed your roots
And clothe yourself
In the possibilities of tomorrow.

Burrow © Keli Tomlin 2016

The Maiden has returned.
Footsteps scattered across the Land
Mantle white as snowdrop skin
Fire burning deep within her
Dancing;
She is dancing
Life into the Earth
With her rhythmic tread
Clever hands and warming hearth,
Promise of rebirth.
Calling;
She is calling
The Dead back to life.

Return © Keli Tomlin 2016

There is magic in every moment, in every being, in every thing.

By choosing to celebrate this magic I hope to draw some of its power and potency into me.

What Life then does with that power I do not try to control.

I trust that simply by loving and celebrating and honouring I will change and grow.

Silently, inevitably; like rivers, mountains and tall trees.

Transformation is not something that happens because of me, but in spite of me.

My role is to allow it, accept it and explore it with gratitude, curiosity and trust.

Personal Transformation © Keli Tomlin

I look to the trees every day remembering why - in Autumn - they are my greatest teachers. Their beauty is unblemished by the change in temperature with some still resolutely summer-green and yet their energy, the very feel of them, tells another story. I ponder, reach out and taste this difference, wondering what has changed that I can’t yet see. Slowly I begin to realise that they have begun to draw deep into themselves, into their root hearts, retreating from the busy World above. They have accepted the turn of the Wheel with silent grace and accepted its encouragement to sleep, to dream. They have let go.

Their canopies are still full of leaves but those leaves are mere shadows of what they were scant weeks earlier. No longer do they hold the vibrancy and energy of life, growth and regeneration. They are empty, hollow. They embody the memory of what has been. Soon those leaves will fall away; quickly or slowly, gripped by wind or winding through air but always they will fall with gratitude and with grace. And the tree will mourn their passing but will not be weighed down with grief, regret or fear of the supposed emptiness that lies ahead. Instead the tree will accept – with its timeless wisdom and ease – the need to release all that has been. It will accept this even before its leaves have started to fall.

We won’t always recognise the exact moment of letting go. We achieve it in our soul before we see the result of it in the World. When we finally realise the process is complete we will find ourselves standing, strong and certain, in our new skin. This is the lesson I learnt from the trees.

Letting Go © Keli Tomlin